“After that, I spent many years with Aisha. I went to the Asura Royal Academy, graduated, and officially started working for Sir Orsted and my father, as well as assisting Aisha in her role as advisor of the mercenary band. I learned how to run it from her. I also hopped around the world with Father and Red Mama every day. In the end, I became the head of the mercenary band and, well…you guys know the rest,” Arus explained, bringing everything to a close.
At some point, his two underlings had gotten comfortable on the floor. They were listening to his tale with vacant looks on their faces. When he finished speaking, they nodded in satisfaction.
“That was quite a good story,” Luicelia said. “Henry, you should use this as food for thought. When you come for me, make sure you have a carriage.”
“Okay, hold on. Clearly, you should be the one coming for me,” Henry replied.
Arus’s underlings continued their back-and-forth as they rose to their feet. Then, the two of them looked down at the book.
“It really was just a journal. Wow. Everyone talked about volume 29 like it was some kind of mythical object, so I figured it’d have something more incredible written in it,” Henry said.
“Oh, it was more than incredible enough for me,” Arus said. “I’d never have gotten to read how my father felt about that whole situation otherwise. Thanks for finding this.”
“Hah, it’s no big deal. Personally, I have no desire to learn what my old man’s thinking.”
“I guess my one regret is that I wish you’d found it before Aisha passed.” Arus sighed.
“That’s asking for way too much… It’s not like we were actively looking for it,” Henry objected. “But, you know, the Aisha in there is way different from the one we knew.”
The Aisha with whom Henry had been familiar was a strict but kind woman. An open-minded individual. She could patiently, gently, and carefully tell stubborn people like Henry and Luicelia what they should do and what they should be careful about. She felt like the kind of person who would never look down on people less skilled or talented than she was.
“You guys were family, so she was probably softer on you in general, but… Yeah, she really did change after we tried to elope.”
Aisha had passed away about half a year ago. She died of old age. According to Orsted, she was supposed to live for a little bit longer, but the last few years had been turbulent. Aisha used her incredible mind to lead the Ogre God Empire to victory time and time again. She was the reason the empire could expand its borders so effectively within a such a short amount of time. It was intense work, day after day. She must have been exhausted.
She died while the country was at war, so they weren’t able to hold a massive funeral for her, but many people attended nonetheless. They all wept for her. Everyone grieved her passing, completely removed from their own self interests.
Aisha’s strategies saved countless lives, but she did more than that. Her very presence, her kindness, her thoughtfulness—all of those qualities saved countless lives. That was why people adored her. Aisha accepted that, not for her own ego but from her heart.
If the Rudeus from the era of this book had seen her, he most certainly would have smiled, satisfied by the sight of his little sister’s development.
“I feel guilt for what I did back then, but…I’m glad we eloped,” Arus whispered.
Aisha had changed after that event, but she’d never told him who she was trying to become or how. Was that because it wasn’t the sort of thing you could put into words, or had she simply chosen not to say? Whatever the answer, he was certain that Aisha had arrived at the destination she’d set for herself.
“I’m so glad,” Arus whispered. The one regret he’d had for all these years had finally vanished.
“Let’s visit Aisha’s grave again sometime soon,” Henry suggested.
“Yeah, once the next mission is over and done with,” Arus agreed.
The upcoming mission was the linchpin of the Asura Kingdom invasion, and it was a mission that Aisha had planned herself. It was only after completing the plan that she’d entered her eternal slumber. Arus had received the explanation of what it entailed from her before she passed, but it was fairly complex. He didn’t completely understand the logic behind the plan, but he and the others would execute it nonetheless. It was Aisha’s last mission. They had to.
“That said, I’m gonna be holding down the fort,” Arus said.
He was an older man. He could still move just fine, but his long years of military service had taken a toll on him. He’d been ordered to protect the fortress. Its safety was vital.
“Oh, please. This is the most important location,” Henry said.
“No enemies are going to come here. I’ll just be drinking tea the whole time,” Arus said.
“Considering how important it is, there’s no way the enemy won’t come.”
“They won’t. I trust you guys will ensure it.”
“Oho, that’s your angle, huh? What do you think, Luicelia?”
“I’m just gonna do the mission I’ve been given,” she replied. “He’s the one who gave me the mission, so if he says the enemy won’t come, they won’t.”
Part of Henry and Luicelia’s mission had been to ensure that nobody discovered the existence of this fortress. They had discovered and assassinated anyone who’d gotten their hands on intel regarding its strategic position. Arus believed they’d carried out their mission perfectly, but there was always the off chance the enemy would get their hands on that intel and attack. If they could take down the fortress, the Ogre God Empire might lose half of its territory. That was how important this place was—so important that Orsted hadn’t hesitated to post his most trustworthy man here.
Arus understood this, and that was why he could say with a smile, Don’t worry about watching your backs. Just focus on what’s in front of you.
“I’m more worried about you guys than I am myself. Don’t die out there.”
Because Arus wouldn’t be standing on the front lines, that meant others would have to in his place. Henry and Luicelia were no exception; they would walk the battlefield.
The Asuran battlelines would be an arena where anyone might die. Arus had mixed feelings about sending such young people to a place like that.
“Aye. We’ll do our beeeest!” Henry crowed.
“Don’t worry. I won’t die,” Luicelia said.
Despite Arus’s weighty concerns, their replies were anything but heavy. Were they treating death lightly, or were they overconfident?
“Look, you two—”
Arus went to berate them, but he cut himself short and smiled wryly. They’d just discussed his own youth, so he was strangely embarrassed. Once a young fool himself, he was now in the position to provide guidance and be exhausted by the youth and their idiocy.
It was said that time made people stronger, but most remained unaware of their own growth. Arus was one such person. He’d gone through life believing he was still immature, but here he was now, an old man. Luicelia and Henry would undoubtedly go through life making dumb decisions, screwing up, and learning from their experiences until they became adults. One day, they’d be elderly themselves.
“Well, I guess it’s good that you’re so enthusiastic,” Arus said. “All right, get going. I’ll report to Sir Orsted, so get some rest.”
It wasn’t Arus’s job to nag them. Instead, he was going to wait in the wings, calm and composed, so he could make them feel at ease. When they made a mistake, he’d clean up after them. That was all he needed to do. Just like it’d been for him, as long as they stayed alive, life would go on even after they made mistakes.
Maybe that’s how Father felt, Arus thought as he watched the pair leave the room.
Rudeus hadn’t been a very fatherlike father. If anything, Red Mama was more of a father figure to Arus. In fact, when Arus became a father himself, he had the feeling that he modeled his behavior after Red Mama. But perhaps his father—perhaps Rudeus—had the same mindset Arus held now.
“That’s how you interact with your grandkids, not your actual children, Dad…” Arus whispered, looking down at The Book of Rudeus.
Rudeus Greyrat continued to be spoken of long after his death, but he hadn’t been a particularly good father. After reading his journal, however, Arus realized that his father had tried his best—fumbling as it might have been—to raise Arus and his siblings.
Arus did the same with his own son. He felt he’d done a better job than his father, but he couldn’t say he was perfect. There were plenty of times when things didn’t go as planned. Likewise, Leroy struggled with his own daughter.
Heh… I suppose there are certain things you only truly understand when you get to my age.
Arus couldn’t understand Rudeus when he was younger. Even after having grandchildren, maybe he still didn’t. But he had the feeling he was getting close. A smile formed on his face.
It’d been some time since Arus had thought about his father. Now he was seeing commonalities between Rudeus and Leroy, as well as himself. That made him happy. He gently patted the cover of The Book of Rudeus.
Being careful not to damage the book in his hands, Arus stood up. He left the room with a spring in his step, intent on delivering the book to Orsted.